Beauty and the Beast
by livingdeadgirl
Summary: [FoleyStacy] Mick Foley didn't leave because he was afraid of Orton, he left because he was afraid of something else or rather, someone else…(UPDATED 2-20-04)
1. Chapter One

Title: Beauty and the Beast

Author: Kora

E-mail: KrazyKora@aol.com or WinterViolet24@aol.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to WWE and all the people and companies who deal with all that legal stuff. I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment.

Summary: [FoleyStacy] Mick Foley didn't leave because he was afraid of Orton, he left because he was afraid of something else or rather, someone else…

Author's Notes: This story is going to jump around a lot with flashbacks but I think overall it will be a real enjoyable fic. All I ask is you give it a chance.

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Chapter One

"Mick, what in th' hell didja think ya were doin'?!" Stone Cold Steve Austin roared, exasperated as he stood next to his friend.

Mick Foley didn't answer, his head bowed as he sat on the large boxes of equipment, a physician working over his forehead swiftly, stitching up the deep gash he had inflicted on his own forehead. 

"Wouldja look at me when I'm talk to ya!" Austin snapped.

Mick's eyes, which had been downcast thus far, rose to look at Austin. There was a gloss of tears there - whether from the pain of receiving the stitches or something else remained to be seen. Austin could also tell they were slightly pink - as if Mick hadn't slept in days. He did indeed look exhausted - worse, he looked defeated.

"Ah hell, Mick," Austin breathed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Ya did good out there, ya did. Ya really showed that Orton kid a thing or two but…I mean, shit man, ya sounded crazier than a shit house rat out there! I mean look what ya did to yer damn head! I'm glad ya came back at the Rumble like I asked ya to, even more that ya came here tonight on my invitation to finally set things straight but I never meant…ya know…fer this."

Mick's eyes shifted away from Austin. Focusing off to one side. His hands shuffled together idly in his lap. The physician drew back and started to mumble a few words Mick didn't even hear, instructions about the stitches and the like. He disappeared, leaving Mick alone with one of his best friends, who, amazingly for the moment, was speechless.

At last Austin cleared his throat, "Mick…what's this all about…really?"

Austin waited but Mick still did not respond, his head facing away from Austin. It was almost as if he were staring intently at something but Austin knew there was nothing there. He tried again, trying his hardest to make his deep Texas-whisky thick accent softer, "Come on, man….ya can talk straight ta me, can'tcha? After all we've been through…"

Still nothing.

Austin sighed and ran a hand over his face, "Shit," a deep inhale, "Shit…it's still her, ain't it?"

Finally Mick reacted, his shoulder's lifting slightly only to fall again as if he was releasing a heavy sigh. Austin knew he'd hit the target and rolled his eyes, voice still as soft as he could manage, "Jesus Mick…this has got ta stop. I mean, Jesus…"

"You don't know." Mick whispered the words so quietly Austin bearly heard them.

"What was that?"

Mick merely shook his head, not elaborating more. Austin's blue eyes widened, interested piqued, "Did somethin' happen? Somethin' ya haven't told me about…"

But Mick would not say another word, eyes still lost in the distance as he saw what Austin could not, a memory playing out before him.

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****

January 16, 2004

Her bottom lip quivered, brown-sugar eyes glittering with unshed tears as she looked at him, begging softly, "Please. Come back."

Mick Foley looked at Stacy Keibler's face and let out a heavy sigh. That face - she could crack a mountainside with that look - such sorrow, such pleading…

He'd been staying (or rather hiding) in the Chicago hotel for weeks. There had been no word from friends or relatives. He'd been proud of how well he'd managed to run away. Until tonight when a knock came at his door. He'd been expecting the pizza delivery boy but instead found himself face to face with Stacy. 

The shock didn't even have time to wear off before she hurriedly crossed the threshold and closed the door behind her. Immediately she started asking him to come back, not even taking time to explain how she'd found him in the first place.

She stood before him - larger than life and extraordinarily beautiful in a simple, close fitting pink-stripped blouse and short black mini skirt, mile long legs ending in strappy black heels. Honey blonde hair hung loose and brushed back, make-up done to perfection but a sad air about her as she pleaded with him to return.

He raked a hand though his unruly mop of brown hair, trying not to think of his own messy attire. He was wearing his normal outfit - big black shirt with a red flannel pulled over and dirty blue jeans. He also had his front teeth caps out, leaving two vacant black holes. Embarrassed by this fact and many others, he shook his head, "Stacy, you don't understand. I just can't…"

"Mr. Foley-"

He laughed the moment she said the words, "Stacy, you've known me long enough to call me Mick - everyone calls me Mick."

"I - I know," she whispered, "I just feel like - I - I'm not worthy to…"

Her eyelashes fluttered down like tiny butterfly wings. Mick shook his head again; he had to stop thinking about her like this. Every time he thought of her it was in flowery, poetic terms. True, he had molded himself into a writer but to think of her like this in his thoughts - to use such illustrious terms…

But then, he couldn't lie, she _was_ beautiful. She deserved to be thought of this way. Just not by him. Talk about 'being worthy'.

Mick smiled, "Stacy, despite what the fans say - I'm not god." He chuckled at the mere suggestion; "I'm just Mick. And I'd like it if you'd call me that."

She swayed from foot to foot, "But a hardcore legend…"

"Stacy-"

The way he said her name - in that deep, firm tone caused heat to blossom under her cheeks, "Okay, _Mick_."

His smile grew, "See - now was that so hard?"

"No." she giggled, then immediately her rising spirits fell as her mind returned to the task at hand, voice soft, "Mick, you have to come back. We need you."

"Stacy, I just can't."

"Why not?"

He looked at her - that cherubic face, those lips…

His heart squeezed painfully in the center of his chest as he swallowed thickly, "Because…because…"

His gaze cast down, away from her as she spoke, "I've heard what the others have been saying in the locker room, backstage, the fans even but - but I don't believe it. I'll never believe it. You're no coward, Mick."

He wanted to laugh again, but bitterly this time. _Ah Stacy, if you only knew…_

He had been a coward for years now but it had nothing to do with the egomaniac Randy Orton, the self titled 'Legend Killer'.

No, like most things in life, it had to do with a girl.

And not just any girl. It was the very one standing in his hotel room right now.

Stacy…

He couldn't quite recall the exact moment he began falling for her but whenever it was he'd been falling ever since. Deeper and deeper until he was where he found himself now.

Hopelessly in love.

To him, every little thing about her was magic. Her voice, her laugh, her body…

She was so, _so_ beautiful…

And so unattainable.

And so never his.

Not that he would ever dare approach her about his feelings. He'd done a nice job of keeping them under wraps for years. And for the most part it wasn't all that hard, it was only until recently, when his return centered so much around her that it became harder and harder to lock away how he felt.

He looked at her again…

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"Mick. Mick!? Are ya even listen ta me, ya sonuvabitch!" Austin hissed, batting at Mick's shoulder rather sharply.

Mick blinked, leaving the memory and turning to Austin, another grave sigh left him and he rose to his feet, muttering under his breath, "I gotta go."

"Go?! Go where?! Come on, talk ta me…ya know I ain't the talkin' type but I wanna know why-"

"Not now, all right?!" Mick hissed, flashing his friend an angry glare. It left as swiftly as it came, returning to its more morose state as he continued, "Please, man…not now. I swear I'll talk to you about it later but…just not now, all right?"

Austin lowered his head and shook it, hands on his hips, voice full of disappointment, "All right, Mick. But I wanna talk ta ya first thing in th' mornin'."

"Fine. I just…gotta go." He grumbled and found his bags, hefting them up as he charged out of the arena. Austin turned to watch him go, face actually showing a glimmer of sadness. Far behind him, watching the moment was another sad face, this one belonging to Stacy.

Mick was unaware either person watched as he made a beeline for his car. He climbed inside and as he began to drive back to his hotel room he realized that unearthing that one memory was only going to cause the others to collide before his eyes, like waves crashing into the shore.

And he was certainty in no mood to remember why he had come back to RAW, to Stacy…to heartache…


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Beauty and the Beast

Author: Kora

E-mail: KrazyKora@aol.com or WinterViolet24@aol.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to WWE and all the people and companies who deal with all that legal stuff. I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment.

Summary: [FoleyStacy] Mick Foley didn't leave because he was afraid of Orton, he left because he was afraid of something else or rather, someone else…

Author's Notes: This story is going to jump around a lot with flashbacks but I think overall it will be a real enjoyable fic. All I ask is you give it a chance.

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Chapter Two

Mick's eyes were focused straight ahead as he drove. A light sprinkling fell from the sky but he hardly acknowledged it. He pulled up to one lone stop light, his truck the only car on the road. He paused before it, waiting patiently for it to turn green.

Why was it even red when no one was around to stop him from going? He didn't know, but then, didn't that just sum up his whole life? He looked out his driver's side window; as if searching the dark, black night sky for answers then turned his attention to the red light. It seemed to bathe him in its glow and slowly another memory surfaced, the one that recalled how this whole affair got started…

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October 14, 2003

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Home sweet, sweet home, was Mick's first thought as he entered his house, dropping off several bags of luggage at the front door. He shuffled about, breathing in the air. It seemed almost stale - no one had been in this house in ages. It felt good to be back, to be home…

Mick kicked off his shoes and went straight to the kitchen. He pulled out a beer as well as a box of macaroni and cheese. He really needed rest but he felt too wired after the last flight. His book tour was almost over with - he was very happy at the success 'Tietam Brown' was making as well as how the tour had been going.

He'd managed to pick out this little bit of time to take a brief rest at his home before finishing up the last leg of the tour. It was all very, very nice. Hard to believe it was his life, considering how things were going so smoothly.

It couldn't get any better, his thoughts chuckled as he pulled out a pot and filled it with water, promptly setting it on the stove to boil. He tore open the box of Mac and Cheese, pulling out the powder cheese packet to place to one side.

He went about his normal unwinding duties - finally taking his luggage back to his room, unpacking, all the while keeping an eye on his dinner - making sure to dump in the noodles when the water started boiling and turning off the burner when it was done. Soon enough he'd drained the noodles, stirred in the powdered cheese and come out with a nice goopy, but delicious orange mess thanks to Kraft.

He also had most of his luggage unpacked but decided to save the rest for later. One bag had been purposefully left at the front door and he dragged it now not to his bedroom but to his living room, resting it next to his armchair and TV. Then he went and got his beer and his dinner and sat in the chair, flicking the TV on.

He unzipped the bag to reveal several tapes inside. Considering he was not always able to catch RAW and Smackdown, he always made it a point of taping each episode - wanting to be updated on what was happening with his friends. He supposed it would be much easier to go the TiVo route, but he had yet to have the time to buy one of those contraptions.

Instead he settled with the old fashioned way, the VCR capturing each moment on tape. They were all appropriately labeled and he drew out first his Smackdown collection. He quickly zipped his way through a few - fast forwarding when necessary. It was nice to see how everyone wrestled, as well as get a look at the newcomers but Smackdown held very little interest for him these days.

It wasn't that he didn't have friends there - he did. But RAW…well, he saved the best for last. And the best? His hands nearly shook as he popped the tape in, waiting with bated breath for her to come on screen.

In someways he felt chagrined with himself, with this obsession he'd been harboring. But then, how could he not be in complete awe of her? And when she finally came on screen his whole tense body relaxed…ah, Stacy. 

She gave a dazzling smile as she escorted Test to the ring. Mick was overjoyed to see how happy Andrew made her - sure, it pained him to not be the one giving her smiles, to not be the arm she held on to but all he really cared about was her happiness and if Andrew gave it to her, all the better.

And then it all changed. In a flash the tapes became darker - Andrew became darker. Mick sat up, outraged at Stacy's treatment. He watched as slowly the glow around her dimmed. Her transformation from gleeful girl to demure, abused mistress outraged him. Then Steiner entered the picture, saving her and Mick was relieved.

But it grew worse, Steiner changed too and Stacy's punishment, her pain became worse, more prevalent. Mick could almost feel it through the screen. He cursed, fast-forwarding, unable to watch her misery as it tore away at his very soul. Where the hell was Austin?!

Why wasn't he helping her?! Getting her away from those bastards! She was being mistreated, taken advantage of, used…tossed about like - like…

Mick couldn't even bear to think of what Test and Steiner did to her when the camera was off. She was a slave to them, a plaything. Her torture…Mick cursed again, viciously - screw hell - where the _fuck_ was Austin!

Then Austin came.

And he stunned her.

Mick exploded.

With a roar he catapulted to his feet and grabbed his cordless phone, jabbing in Austin's cell number, the moment he heard the click of the receiving end being picked up he let loose, "What the FUCK, Austin! What the fuck!"

"Mick?" a sleepy voice asked on the other end, followed by a long yawn, "'Zat you?"

"You stunned her! You son of a bitch! How dare you even fucking _touch_ her much less stun her! I'll kill you, I swear to god…"

"Mick, whoa, buddy…what in th' hell ya talkin' about? Ya just wake me up in the middle of the night and start-"

"I saw what you did to Stacy, Austin…Jesus, what you did only…fuck, what, yesterday?! You stunned her! I can't believe you! What in the hell is the matter with you! How could you even think - how could you dare…fucking lay a finger on her…"

"Whoa, whoa, shaddup, willya!" Austin roared on the other end, voice frustrated and angry. He grunted a few times as he sat up in bed and flicked on the near by bedside lamp. He ran a hand over his face and tried to collect his thoughts, "You're talking about…what? Stacy?"

"What the hell do you think!" Mick seethed.

Austin yawned again and stretched, then ran a hand over his face a second time, "Well I couldn't quite understand ya, Mick. Ya call me up without so much as a 'Hello, how are ya' before ya start chewing into my ass about something. I can bearly understand ya, yer so goddamn hysterical! You're babbling an' rant an' ravin'…"

Mick took in a deep breath, trying to reign in his emotions and get a hold of himself. He breathed in and out slowly for a few moments before continuing, voice tight, "Steve…I saw what you did to Stacy. I can't believe you! How could you even…I mean, she's a woman for Christ's sake! And her size and stature…you could have really hurt her. Caused her serious damage and she's all ready going through so much and - Jesus, how can you even live with yourself leaving her in Test and Steiner's twisted grip! Do you even see what they're doing to her?! They're…they're _killing_ her."

Just saying the words pained him. They were doing more than killing her. They were destroying her, tearing her apart - deconstructing. He watched each tape. Watched as slowly but surely she deteriorated right before his eyes. It broke his heart, enflamed his blood…Jesus, it drove him crazy.

Austin cleared his throat, "Aw hell, Mick. She got herself inta all that trouble if ya paid attention. I mean she didn't have to let Test and Steiner drag her around like a dog on a leash. Sure, she's in an abusive relationship…two of 'em in fact but she should have the common sense and backbone ta drag her own pretty little ass outta that mess. No one's forcing her to-"

"Bullshit! Bullshit!" Mick snapped, "She's tied to the two of them in contract and you know it! She can't free herself, she needs you, she needs help and what do you do?! You stun her just cause she doesn't want to drink a beer with you!"

Austin's eyes narrowed on the other end, "She was being disrespectful ta me."

"Fuck that! And fuck you for thinking like that! You know better! I mean, Jesus, after the whole Debra mess-"

"Don't. Go. There." Austin warned, voice as deadly as sharp steel, "Mick, yer my friend and there ain't too many that hold that title - are allowed to get away with some shit on me but ya don't want ta touch that. Trust me."

Mick sighed, knowing he'd stepped over a line, "I'm sorry."

There was a deep chuckle on the other end, "Shit, man, I know. Don'tcha worry none. You have a tendency ta stick yer foot in yer mouth when yer upset enough. I know that better'n anybody. I know ya didn't mean it. Don't sound so much like a pussy over the other end. No need ta apologize ta me."

"No, that was, that was…a low blow. But considering what you did, you can't blame me…"

The Rattlesnake chuckled again, drawling, "So ya still have the hots for little, Miss Hot Pants?"

Mick's teeth clenched together as he hissed, "Steve, you're the only one who I ever talked to about it and if you even-"

"Ah shut th' hell up, ya sonuvabitch! Ya know I'd never tell nobody. Who th' fuck I'd tell anyway?! 'Sides, I always thought it was kinda cute on yer part…"

"Austin…"

"All right, all right. Tell ya what, I'll talk ta 'er next week on RAW. Bring her and Test out ta th' ring and ask her for some respect and an apology. She gives it to me, and I'll watch out fer her. Even try and free her from Test and Scott. How's that sound?"

Mick shook his head, "Not good enough."

On the other end, Austin rolled his eyes, "Sweet Jesus, ya still got it this bad, huh? Why don't ya just tell her all ready…"

"Austin." The hiss was even stronger this time.

"Look, I'll do what I can but I don't like getting myself involved in shit unless I wanna, ya got me? Hell, man, why don't ya just come back and clean up th' mess yourself."

Mick sighed, "I can't. You know I…"

"Yeah, yeah - still scared ta face her, I know. Je-sus, boy! Ya do got it bad. Still, I gave ya my word I'd do what I can and I keep my word. Remember though, I'm not doin' this 'cause I like ya or nothin'…"

**__**

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Mick blinked as the red light before his eyes clicked over to green. The memory vanishing as quick as it came. A thin veil of rain droplets coated his windshield and with a sigh he flicked his wipers on.

He pulled through the light and continued his trek back to his hotel. 

Of course Austin's last words had been a lie. He was actually one of Mick's closest friends and always had been. But the Rattlesnake was never one to confess the feelings close to his heart easily. It was half the reason he understood Mick's position. Sure, he'd ride him about it, but he understood and respected it enough to help him out.

And he had. Steve had kept his part of the bargain for the most part but, being Steve, had gotten in a heated confrontation with Bischoff that resulted in a bet he lost. Survivor Series cost him his position as Co-GM and he had yet to free Stacy.

When the news came to Mick it planted a heavy weight on his shoulders. His book tour was finally complete, if he wanted to, he could do what Austin suggested. He could go to RAW, do something about it, free Stacy…

And he was so eager to do so, to be her savior - her hero. But at the same token he was so unwilling. He didn't want to be back in the squared circle - even more, he didn't know how it would be when he saw her again. Faced her. They hadn't spoken much even when they _had_ both been working together but now…if he went there just expressly to save her.

But what choice did he have? There was more than Stacy at stake now, there was also Austin. The man was his friend and he had tried to do so much for him, he didn't deserve to lose his Co-GM position just because he had taken a bad bet. 

And hell, Mick had seen Survivor Series: Shawn Michaels, Austin's old enemy, had fought his heart out for a man he used to despise. Fought so hard…shit…he had deserved to win, Austin had deserved to keep his position, and Stacy…Stacy deserved freedom.

With that in mind, he had gone through the upper channels, ready to toss his hat back into the fray. But as Mick drove now, he wondered if, in the end, it had all been worth it at all. Considering how things had ended up. And as he thought over this, he was unaware that another car had appeared on the road - a car that followed inconspicuously behind him.

**__**


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Beauty and the Beast

Author: Kora

E-mail: KrazyKora@aol.com or WinterViolet24@aol.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to WWE and all the people and companies who deal with all that legal stuff. I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment.

Summary: [FoleyStacy] Mick Foley didn't leave because he was afraid of Orton, he left because he was afraid of something else or rather, someone else…

Author's Notes: This story is going to jump around a lot with flashbacks but I think overall it will be a real enjoyable fic. All I ask is you give it a chance.

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__

Chapter Three

Mick unlocked his door and entered; sighing raggedly as he tossed aside his key and trudged inside. He hated hotels. He hated being in Pennsylvania. Actually, he had nothing wrong with the state but at this particular moment he hated it because it was not home. He just wanted to go home.

He had gotten in Orton's face - torn him apart because he couldn't stand another bald-face lie coming out of the impudent youth's mouth but he hadn't even really wanted to do that. Not after what happened with Stacy. 

Sure, it had been nice to release all his frustrations on Orton - what with Orton's constant lies, the doubt of his friends and fans hanging on him as well as the situation with Stacy - he had had a lot of frustrations to release.

It was just as he told Orton - he needed hatred in order to fight. And lord knew he felt hate…but more than that, he felt hurt. The part of his mind reserved for writing came up with a poetic phrase he muttered under his breath, "The scars you can't see."

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, good line. Maybe he could use it in his next novel. He trudged to the bathroom and decided to overlook the damage he had inflicted upon himself. He clicked the lights on and trudged over to the mirror, pulling aside masses of brown curls to reveal the physician's handiwork.

A neat row of stitches lined above his eyebrow. He counted them out; happy to see he was reaching a record low. Was that a good or a bad thing? He couldn't decide as he walked over to the shower and flicked it on, trying to reach a nice temperature. He'd only been in the ring a few moments but under those hot lights, with all those people - it was hard _not_ to build up a sweat.

A shower would do him good, then some rest. He could decide what to do from there. Maybe some mind-numbing TV would help. There were so many things he didn't want to do that finding things that wouldn't bother him was something of a task. Anything that didn't involve heavy thinking was good. Very good.

For all intents and purposes, he was surprised he was even still walking, existing after everything. He looked into the mirror in front of him, looked into his own eyes…

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December 1, 2003

One of his first acts was to free her. The great thing about doing so, was that it was going to work three-fold. Not only would her freedom be granted but also by 'firing' Test and Stiener, he'd put those bastards in their place and he'd be taking a jab at Bischoff - showing the power-mad General Manager exactly what he looked like to others.

All it had taken was his standing on the ramp and a few well-spoken words into the mike. He had called Stacy to him and she had diligently done so. Once she had been to one side of him, he'd found it hard to continue. It had been so long since he'd been in her presence. She smelled amazing, looked amazing…

But he'd managed to get the words out and then the next thing he knew, Stacy was leaping around him more ecstatic than he'd ever seen her. Her face - it was priceless. Beautiful. Then she was in his arms. He didn't know how she got there but somehow, the next thing he knew, he was cradling her close to him. For someone so tall she was as light as a feather, curling up against him just as soft.

He held her as tightly as possible without hurting her. For one thing, he was scared to death of dropping her and for another - god, he just wanted to hold her. It was bliss. She had her arms around his neck, fingertips toying with the tips of his curly brown hair in a playful manner. She kept looking at him, eyes all aglow with admiration. It was almost too much - he felt as if his heart would give out at any second.

But instead of collapsing to the ramp with her in tow, he merely turned and exited. He managed to release her without a problem but the moment she was out of his grip his arms literally ached with the want of more. He managed to not show a thing though - he'd managed it this long that now he had it down to a science.

After all, she had no idea whatsoever how he felt about her.

But then how could she?

It wasn't like they had ever spent much time together. Surely not enough for him to feel as strongly as he did. But that was just it - he didn't have to spend every waking second with her to know he loved her. He wished he could tell her, wish he could express it - explain the magic of it. 

He supposed from an outside view it might appear that he was merely obsessed with her - that he was like one of those salivating fanboys who merely felt they 'loved' her because of her looks but it wasn't that - quite the opposite. It was so much more than that…

Then he realized she'd been talking to him.

Her brown eyes were more alive than they'd been in months, energetic as she continued, "…I can't believe that you did that for me! Oh Mick, thank you, thank you so much - I hate repeating myself but…oh…if only knew what it was like...what I've been going thorough..."

The last part was gasped on a breathy whisper, caught at the tail end as if she realized she had spoke aloud too much. The life was soon clouded over with pain and a glaze of tears. Mick refused to let her get caught up in memories - remembrances of her imprisonment and horrible things she must have done therein.  


He reached out and tipped her chin up, daring to touch her so that their eyes met, a loopy grin on his face, "There, there Stacy. I know. Heck, why'dja think I did that? I knew…I mean, anyone with eyes could tell you needed to be set free."

"Rescued." She returned just as softly, eyes warm again with admiration, "Rescued is the better term. You saved me. Knight in shining armor…"

"Pfft. It was nothing." He returned, and noted his fingertips still rested on her chin. He pulled away and shook his hand as if it were burned, head moving from side to side to try and wash out what she was saying - even the sight of her. This night was just too much. 

But she did not notice, instead she gasped again, "How can you say that…what you did," she shook her own head now, voice low, "It was everything. The nicest thing anybody's ever done for me."

Mick scratched the back of his head, cheeks red, "It was nothing."

"So modest," she giggled, lips screwing to one side in a tiny, hidden smile, eyes twinkling. She reached a hand forward and tousled his hair, giggling. Mick couldn't help but laugh himself, even if he felt the pain of regret.

This was the Stacy he remembered - the Stacy he wanted her to be forever. The happy-go lucky, unintentionally-flirting-with-him Stacy. She was just being herself. Charming. But oh, if only she knew how her innocent touches affected him. But he pushed it aside. Now wasn't the time for his selfish, inner turmoil. Now was the time for her - for celebration. 

He managed to beam, actually _beam_, at her as he asked, "So what do you plan to do now with your freedom?"

"Oh my! I never thought of that, good question," she giggled, fingers still toying with his hair as she tossed one arm around his shoulder and walked with him down the arena's backstage hallways.

She put a thoughtful finger to her lips, "I suppose I shall have to become someone else's valet. I mean…that's what I'm good at. Management. I don't quite have the build to be as physical as the other girls. I envy Lita and Trish sometimes, you know. Being able to get in there and sacrifice their bodies - that and the curves."

"Curves?"

"Sure, Lita and Trish are whole. Curvy. Not a tall, thin stick. I'm like Jack Skellington over here."

"Hey now - don't say that. You're…" Mick paused, not sure how to even begin to explain to Stacy how amazing she was. It'd take him all night. He settled for shortening it as best he could, "You're beautiful and amazing and funny and smart and gorgeous and - and - and I'm rambling."

"No, it's very sweet." Stacy returned in a whisper and he could have sworn he saw pink flash on her cheeks but he knew he must have imagined it. There was no way he could have gotten that lucky. And why would she blush at anything he said? Thousands of guys probably told her she was beautiful…

Why would what he said make a difference?

He sighed and decided to be a little honest, "I wish I could…impress to you how wonderful you are. How - how no other girl on the roster can compare. But…I mean, I may be a writer but when it comes to real life and - and to speaking aloud I tend to come up short, ya know? I mean…I'm not good at explaining myself well."

"I think you do just beautifully," Stacy assured and stopped him shortly, turning him so she could give him a big, warm, strong hug.

Mick returned the embrace awkwardly, scared he'd clutch her tightly to him again as he had earlier when he'd held her in his arms. He wouldn't have an excuse this time for squeezing her so tightly to him. Hell, he could remember now that before putting her down he'd given her an extra squeeze close to him for good measure - as if trying to absorb the feeling, treasuring the last, sweet little bit of it. Her in his arms…

And now she was hugging him and he was trying ever so hard to return it lightly. Gentle pats to her back. He couldn't overwhelm her. Couldn't crush her to him as he desired to. Besides, this was more than good enough. Hell, anything she gave him was more than good enough. He was like a hungry little bird at her feet. Any size bread crumbs would do, so long as he got to eat.

She drew away, face more lovely than the sun first rising in the sky as she purred, "I'm so glad you're back."

The implication of what she said hit him like a first to the face. Each word a knuckle grazing his heart. He sighed, the sound actually conveying how deeply sad her comment had just made him. Realization skittered to his mind, bringing everything to a halt.

His voice came out sheepish but with a husky undertone that came from her earlier touches or maybe simply the euphoria of being in her presence, "Stacy, I didn't plan on…"

Her eyes widened, slight pout in place, "You _are_ staying, aren't you? I mean, I had hoped…"

Her bottom lip shook just a little and just like that he folded like a house of cards. Shaking his head and offering a goofy, classic Mick Foley grin, ''Course I'm staying, Stacy. Lots of stuff to still do around here, right?"

She beamed, hugging him a second time, "You bet!"

They began walking again and Mick troubled over in his mind what he had just said. What he was committing himself to. Not taking notice of his mental struggle, Stacy began chirping happily again, "You asked what I was going to do now that I'm free and I've got one good idea all ready. I want to watch movies."

"Movies?" This unexpected change of topic caused a stop to the swelling tide of unanswered questions and thoughts in his brain.

"Yeah - and I want to pig out. On popcorn and candy. Test and Steiner would never let me do much of anything you know, other than…" Again a swell of pain crossed her face but just as quickly she squashed it, continuing doggedly, "So I want a movie party. You know, like you'd have in seventh grade."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Well I mean, sure, it's not an impacting 'what am I going to do now' thing. I mentioned becoming someone else's valet and I mean that but - but I can't think of it right now. I'm scared of-" she trailed off, voice quiet.

He waited patiently for her to continue but she chose not to, instead pushing several fingers to her lower eyelids, obviously to steam the possible flow of tears, when she spoke her voice was surprisingly deep, "Doesn't matter. Focus on the positives. Focus on now. Freedom. And fun. And movies."

She looked at him, glittering brighter than any star, blinding him with her intensity, "So how about it? We should celebrate. Me and you. Want to watch movies with me?"

If Mick had been drinking anything at the time he either would have spit it out or choked to death. He looked at her, unable to hold back the utter bowled over expression on his face, "You - you want to watch a movie with - with me?"

"Well yeah, that's what I just said, wasn't it?" She asked with mock nastiness, hands on her hips, then folding across her front, head moving from side to side, lips pursed up like she'd just bit into a lemon. 

The act swiftly dissolved into silly, light-hearted giggles as she punched his arm and then filtered her fingers thought his hair again, "Come on, the least you can do after all you've done is celebrate my freedom with me. We can watch my alter-ego in 'Nightmare Before Christmas'."

"Alter-"

"Jack Skelington."

"Hey now, I told you, you're not - not some Tim Burton stick figure. I mean if you go off that you can say I'm like - like the Penguin from 'Batman'. I mean if we're going off Tim Burton films-"

"Hey! You're not the Penguin!"

"I was trying to think of a character he's directed that's…'rotund'. "

"You're not - not," she gasped but Mick held up a hand, "No point arguing there, Stacy. I know I'm not Mr. Universe. Well…I'm big enough to BE the universe I supposed but-"

"Oh!" she punched his arm again, "You're such a girl! You look fine. You're body is-"

"Spare me, please." Mick muttered, looking away, a wash of loathing filling himself. Normally he wasn't so low on himself but every now and then his self-esteem did take a dive. This was one of those times.

Stacy was not to be deterred though, "Look, I'm not going to argue with you. You're going to watch movies with me, spend time with me and celebrate the freedom you brought about. Period. I command you!"

"You command me?" Mick laughed dryly.

"Yeah!" She chirped, giggling, knowing she was being silly as she hugged him again, "Now come on. How about it?"  


"We've got to finish up the show first you know, I've got to get Bischoff-"

"Hell yeah, you do!" Stacy crowed in approval, clapping her hands, "You go do that and after the show tonight-"

"All right, all right. Movies, jeez, lady - you're a pain in the neck!" Mick chuckled at his jest but deep inside he was overflowing with joy. Stacy had asked to spend time with him. Celebrate with him. Be with him. Him and her. They were going to - be together. Hang out. Spend more than ten minutes together.

He was seconds away from asking someone to pinch him.

-------------------------------------------------------------

The mirror before Mick's eyes became coated in a layer of steam, fogging out. He drew back from it and from memories. He'd been so flippin' happy then, hadn't he? He could even remember their 'date', as it were. 

It had all been innocent fun. A night of movies and popcorn. Nothing had even happened. There had been the usual hair tousling and hugging but it wasn't like she had cuddle up next to him during the movies or fallen asleep on his shoulder. He hadn't even put his arm around her. Instead they'd watched the films and talked and - it had been fantastic.

He didn't need to touch her to have an over the top, amazing time. Just being with her was enough. But it had gone from there, hadn't it? After that night she'd joked that he was her 'new little toy'. 

She'd wanted to spend more time around him. Danced around his feet like an overeager puppy begging for play and he'd been more than willing…

He told himself it was just friendship. That was what she really needed. That was all he was going to offer, all he should offer...

__

But it became more than that, didn't it, Mick? His thoughts hissed at him. _You couldn't just be her friend. No, no - you had to be just like everyone else. Every other man who's come in and out of her life._

He wanted to clamp his hands over his ears, he wanted to shut the sound of his thoughts out but how could he when they were right? He had wanted - so desperately - to be better than that. To be something - someone else - to Stacy. He wanted to play the role of a friend since she hungered - no, needed - that so desperately but instead he'd let himself become overwhelmed with his own selfish needs and wants.

The movies hadn't been the last of their 'dates'. There had been another time…

He shuddered, disgusted with himself and quickly stripped his clothes. Climbing into the shower and drawing the curtain behind him. Trying to wash away all thought and memory.


End file.
